Freeing the Three
by AzureSkye23
Summary: Sequel to Arrival in Rivendell; AU where Saruman has the Ring. Those who still can stand against Saruman have gathered in Rivendell, and while Sauron knows that he will be more of a liability than an asset in the coming war, there is something he can do. Namely, keeping the leaders of those who will fight from being enslaved themselves.


Sauron sighed as he forced himself to leave the unhealthily comfortable bed. Despite the fact he hadn't truly left it in a week, he still wanted to do nothing more than curl up in it and sleep for a month or so. Still, the nightmares would not let him, and he knew time was racing onward: every day brought Saruman's victory closer. He hadn't been able to do anything for the past week due to the illness that had left him delirious, which everyone suspected was Ring induced. Sauron was fairly certain he knew what Saruman had been trying to do that had triggered it, but he would need to speak with Elrond or Galadriel to confirm it.

Elrond was probably the safer idea, Sauron decided. The wary formality the Peredhel had first shown had melted away when his skills as a healer were needed, and now the Elf-lord had a better understanding of just how broken the Maia was. Sauron was simply grateful that though he had been unable to keep himself from crying out, he had managed to maintain control of what language he spoke in, and had reverted to his earliest tongue, insuring that it was only his brother who could understand him.

Sauron sighed again as he caught sight of himself in a mirror. He had never really been happy with this form, and now, after eating next to nothing for two weeks, he looked worse than ever. Not to mention his hair was a mess. He quickly found a comb, and sitting on a convenient chair, began to work it into some semblance of order. Apart from his eyes, his hair was really the only thing about his physical form that had never changed: it was still as dark and thick as it had always been.

He was lost in the few remaining memories he had of the time before everything had gone wrong when someone knocked at the door. Recalling himself from his bittersweet past, he raised his voice slightly, and called for whomever it was to come in. It was Elrond who entered, and the healer looked his patient over critically before his face relaxed into a small smile.

"You are looking better," he commented. Sauron raised an eyebrow.

"I have the distinct impression you are simply being polite," he said dryly. "I look like something that was dead for a few weeks and then reanimated. If that's better, then I hate to think I've looked like this past week." Elrond actually snorted at that.

"You're not far wrong about your appearance, but your eyes are clear and focused again, instead of the confused haze they've held all week," he said.

"Whatever Saruman was doing, he stopped, and I don't think he succeeded if I'm correct about what he was trying to do," Sauron said contemplatively.

"You know what he was doing?" Elrond asked, slightly surprised. Sauron nodded.

"I'm almost certain, though I will need to speak with you, Olórin," he paused for a second before sighing and continuing, "and Galadriel as well, if she will agree to speak with me, to know for sure." Elrond nodded thoughtfully.

"My office will probably be best for such a discussion," he said. "I will escort you there to show you where it is, then collect the others." Sauron nodded, setting down the comb.

"And to make sure I don't fall flat on my face before I get halfway," he commented dryly.

"That as well," Elrond agreed calmly. Sauron resisted the urge to sigh again. Healers.

Sauron made the journey without too much difficulty. He still felt slightly weak, but refused to let any of it show, though he did sink gratefully into a padded chair once inside Elrond's office. The Peredhel studied him briefly, then nodded, and left to go find Gandalf and Galadriel.

Sauron stared out the window at the ravine Rivendell had been built in, letting his mind begin to work on the tangled problem facing Middle-earth. There were really only two immediate things he could see himself doing that would be helpful. He was more of a liability than a help in the coming war. For war there would be, unless the Elves decided to flee these shores. Still, he could not see them doing so without first at least trying to mount a resistance, and perhaps, _perhaps_, he could give them an edge.

He blinked and refocused when the door opened, turning to face those entering. Gandalf looked him over much as Elrond had done earlier, then sat by him. Galadriel entered with her face studiously blank, but Sauron could feel the disapproval and antipathy only held in check by the seriousness of the situation. He was glad Gandalf was between the two of them. Elrond sat at his desk, surveying the faces before him before turning to Sauron with a clear invitation to speak.

"I'm fairly certain that what occurred this past week was a result of Saruman trying to bring the Three under his control," Sauron said bluntly, getting straight to the point. "The Nine and the Seven would have been under his control as soon as he had control of the One, but the Three are connected to the One far more tenuously, and Saruman will have to first figure out how I managed to connect them in the first place before he can attempt to dominate them. That will take him some time. Of course, to be certain that is what he was attempting to do, I will need to see at least one of them."

He looked slightly expectantly at the Elves, and it was with surprise that he watched Gandalf pull Narya out of his robes and hand it to him. He stared at the Ring of Fire on his palm with bemusement.

"There is something inherently ironic about the fact that the one I have been unable to even guess at its location has been on my brother's hand this whole time," he said dryly, before beginning to study it intensely, turning it over and over in his fingers. If he had known it, he looked much the same as he had when he first came up with the idea of the Rings in the first place.

"Arrogant fool," he finally said softly, though full of derision. Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

"Celebrimbor or Saruman?" he asked dryly.

"Saruman," Sauron replied distantly, still focused on the Ring he held. Gandalf sighed.

"Mairon, just because you never liked him, and he made minor mistakes, doesn't make him a fool. I never understood the rivalry between the two of you," Gandalf said with exasperation.

"Blowing up half a planet isn't a 'minor mistake', Olórin," Sauron said, matching his tone. "And the rivalry was only in his head. I completely outclassed him." Gandalf just sighed, knowing from past experience that he was never going to convince Sauron anyway.

"Anyway, this attempt was unintelligent, even for him," Sauron continued. "He tried to use me as the intermediary, like it is with the Seven and the Nine. But as I wasn't involved in making the Three, there is no part of my essence in them, unlike the others. I had to use my knowledge of Celebrimbor to bring them under the dominion of the One. Of course, even though Saruman has gone through all of my memories, he didn't even _think_ to use them to figure out how to control the Three–"

"_He did what?"_ Gandalf all but growled. Sauron blinked, cutting off his rant. He hadn't meant to tell his brother that little detail, though he was fairly certain that if Gandalf had thought about it rationally, he could have guessed. Of course, he had also been fairly certain that there was no way Gandalf _would_ have thought about this rationally. He sighed.

"There used to be a time when I could actually talk without giving away the secrets I was trying to keep…" he commented to the arm of his chair. He looked up and met his brother's thunderous expression. "Yes, Olórin, he completely tore apart my mind and soul. Just what did you think he had done to me?"

Gandalf's expression shifted to one of deep pain. "I didn't," he admitted softly. "I couldn't bear to think what he had done to you, even before you rescued me from Orthanc." He paused, then continued in a whisper, "I felt I had failed you."

"Olórin…" Sauron said softly, his expression of sorrow. "You never failed me. If anything, I failed you. Ultimately, this _is_ all my fault." He paused, wondering if he should continue, but decided that it would probably come out eventually. "And this is not the first time this has happened to me."

"_Who?"_ Gandalf demanded, his expression shifting back to anger. Sauron gave him a haunted, pain-filled look.

"Who do you think?" he asked flatly. Gandalf's expression shifted to one that not even Sauron could interpret.

"Just for his own sadistic enjoyment, or did he have an excuse?" he asked in a sarcastic tone of voice. Sauron gave a bitter laugh, looking back out of the window, unable to look at his brother or the two Elves who could currently pass for statues.

"Oh, he had a reason," he said caustically, unable to hide the extreme pain in his voice. "He blamed me for the fact he had lost a Silmaril. The scars come from that night as well, I know you've been planning ask me about them." Two soft sudden intakes of air were heard from the Elves as they placed what Sauron was talking about. Elrond had seen the scars Sauron carried from Gothmog along with Gandalf as they tended him through his weeklong delirium. Galadriel had not seen them, but she had made it her mission to know everything she could about the Quest that had cost her brother his life.

"That time was worse," Sauron admitted in a barely audible whisper, looking down at his hands, not knowing how lost that made him look. "He destroyed or bound most of my memories…except the ones that dealt with my technical knowledge he still wished to exploit…and the ones I hated, or regretted…" He shifted in his seat, still not looking at anyone.

"I don't know how many are truly gone, and how many are simply bound," he continued, slightly louder. "Though I've probed the bindings, doing so is…painful, and I can't lift them."

"Could someone else do so?" Gandalf asked, his voice rough. Sauron shrugged.

"One of the Valar probably could," he admitted. "But I doubt I could bear the touch of another mind for as long and with the intimacy it would take, and frankly, the Valar are simply going to throw me to the Void, not bother to try and heal me." Gandalf closed his eyes, looking old, even accounting for the form he wore. There was silence, as no one knew what to say after that statement. Finally, Sauron shifted again, consciously putting his past behind him and moving on, as he always had done to survive.

"We have gotten far off topic," he said in an almost normal voice. "I have been thinking, and there are two definite things I can do to assist. The first is that I can unmake the Three, and thus keep the three of you from being enslaved. However, after studying Narya, I think it might, _might_, be possible for me to free them from the hold the One has on them." Everyone else in the room straightened, their attention fully caught.

"If you could do so, that would be a great help," Elrond said. "It would certainly give us more of a chance than we have at the present."

"Even the combined might of the Three will not stand against the One," Sauron cautioned. "But there are certainly other ways to use them that will be most helpful. I will, of course, need to borrow your forge."

"Of course," Elrond said, pausing as Sauron stood up. "Are you sure you are up to it at the moment?" Sauron nodded.

"Every moment we waste is simply more time for Saruman how to figure out how to control them." he said. "Time is not on our side."

They all realized the validity of that statement, and Elrond led the way to Rivendell's forges, the best the Noldor still had this side of the sea. Sauron carefully looked around the forge, happily realizing that it was similar to the one that had existed in Ost-in-Edhil, while Elrond graciously declined the smiths' offers of aid.

"Is there anything you need from us?" Elrond asked as the last of the smiths left, giving Sauron suspicious glances as they did so. Sauron shook his head.

"I'll need the Rings, but that's it," he said, as he moved around the forge, familiarizing himself with it quickly, and turning his attention back to Narya. Gandalf couldn't help but smile as he watched his little brother begin to work. There was an unconscious grace in his movements, as if the forge was merely an extension of himself to accomplish what he wished. The smile grew bigger as Gandalf realized that Sauron was actually humming, softly to be sure, but that instinctive sound alerted Gandalf to the fact that his brother was completely and happily engrossed in what he was doing.

Gandalf turned his attention to the two Elves at his side, observing their reactions. Both were watching, awed and impressed by what they saw. Galadriel noticed his scrutiny, and turned with a small smile.

"I have watched my family work, as well as others who served and learned under Aulë," she said softly, so as to not disturb Sauron. "But the only one in whom I have seen this level of competence and grace, besides Aulë himself, was Fëanor." Gandalf nodded.

"Your uncle always reminded me of Mairon," he told her, "and not just because of their skills in the forge. It concerned me, but there was nothing I could do." Galadriel nodded, and was silent for a while.

"I wonder what they would have made of each other, had they ever met," she mused finally. Gandalf gave her an amused look.

"They would have either been best of friends, or they would have absolutely hated each other," he said dryly. She laughed softly at that. They stood silent, watching Sauron work, until he finally stopped moving, studying Narya again.

"Double check it for me, Olórin," he called, tossing it back to its bearer. Gandalf did so, using all his limited resources, before finally slipping it on his finger, feeling its pulsing rhythm. It was rejoicing.

"It's free," he said, nodding to Sauron, who grinned, lighting up his whole face.

"Good," he said in satisfaction. "Nenya next, then?" Galadriel nodded, and pulled it out on a chain around her neck, slipping it free and handing it to him. It was an even shorter time before Sauron was tossing it back to Gandalf, who quickly checked it over before returning it to Galadriel.

"That was swifter than the time needed with Narya," she commented as she slipped it back on her finger. Sauron nodded as he took Vilya from Elrond.

"Nenya was made specifically for you," he explained. "I'm binding the Rings closer to what they've picked up from their bearers over the Ages, to change them enough so that they will not be recognized by the One. What Nenya has learned from you, and Celebrimbor's original ideals for it are quite harmonious, making it easier." Galadriel nodded her understanding, falling silent again as Sauron began to work with Vilya. It took longer than with Nenya, but shorter than with Narya, before he tossed Vilya to Gandalf, who checked it and handed it back to Elrond. Sauron sighed shortly, gripping the edge of a table as some of his exhaustion slipped through his mask now that he didn't have a task to focus on.

"Well, that went surprisingly well," he commented. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he stared to the south. Gandalf recognized the warning signs, and quickly moved to his side. "And just in time," Sauron managed to mutter before he collapsed again.

Gandalf began to use Narya to shelter and shield his little brother, quickly joined by Elrond, who did the same with Vilya. A few seconds later, a white light joined the red and blue. Sauron's unfeigned shock at Galadriel's willingness to help him was palatable, as was Galadriel's slight chagrin at his reaction. Working in concert, the Three encased Sauron's fëa in a temporary protective cocoon. Elrond, using Vilya, quickly sought and found the place where Sauron was connected to the One. It was also the site of the most damage; it was as if his fëa had been shredded in that area. Elrond began to work to create a shield over the area, binding it as tightly to the section as he dared. Galadriel joined him, using Nenya's unwillingness to yield to strengthen it against the destructive echoes of the One. Gandalf continued to support Sauron with Narya, wrapping him in warmth and protection.

_I think I can make this permanent,_ Elrond silently murmured. _But I will need to anchor it to something._

_A memory? _Galadriel proposed. _A strong one, one of happiness and peace, that can be incorporated into the shield. _

_That might work,_ Elrond agreed.

_Happy memory…_Sauron mused. _Hmm, I should have at least one left somewhere, I suppose…_

_Not helping, Mairon, _Gandalf admonished.

_Sorry, Olórin, _Sauron said sheepishly. _Ah, what about this one?_

It certainly seemed to fit the requirements. It was simple, the brothers working together to build something that had then chattering about various substances that the Elves only vaguely recognized. Finally, they finished the small cylindrical device they were working on, and they lit the bottom on fire before running a safe distance away. They watched as it exploded in a burst of color and sound, before turning and grinning at each other.

_Is that how your fireworks were started?_ Galadriel asked in amusement.

_Yes, _Gandalf and Sauron replied, almost as one.

_Those were good days…_Gandalf said nostalgically.

_I had already been targeted by Melkor at that point,_ Sauron said, faint sorrow in his mental voice. _But working on the fireworks let me forget all about that and simply enjoy myself. _

_There, I believe that has done it, _Elrond commented quietly, pulling back away from the shield and studying it carefully. _Though I am not sure if it would stand up to a targeted assault. _

Sauron studied it himself, poking at it gently. _It wouldn't stand up to the One, no, _he agreed. _But Saruman would have to be fairly close to me to wield it against me that precisely, and if I get that close to him again, I'll loose far more than just the shield. It will hold up nicely to the distant echoes I have been getting from here. _

_Good, _Elrond said. _Then I suppose we can withdraw and let you get some rest. _

_Er, actually, with your permission there is something I would like to do first, _Sauron said. At Gandalf's unquestioning acceptance, and Elrond and Galadriel's curious confirmation, he drew on the power of the Three, letting the form he wore shift. The Elves could only compare the sensations to taking off stiff, dirty, ill-fitting clothing and slipping into a beloved pair of pajamas, as Sauron for the first time that Age shifted back to the form he thought of as his.

_That's better_, he sighed contentedly. Elrond and Galadriel studied the now delicate features of the Maia as they withdrew gently from the surface of his mind and soul. Elrond could see the resemblance to the features of Annatar, and Galadriel could see what the stories had meant when they had described the features of Morgoth's lieutenant. But Gandalf just smiled, recognizing the features of his little brother.

"Come on, Mairon," he said softly. "Let's get you to bed."


End file.
